


Retreat of the Clones

by primeideal



Category: Outernet - Steve Barlow and Steve Skidmore
Genre: Alien Gender/Sexuality, Clones, Gen, Mentions of Pregnancy, Other, Post-Canon, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-01 23:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6540325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primeideal/pseuds/primeideal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once, the Bugs had sons and daughters, fathers and mothers. If those days are to come again, it's going to take some help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retreat of the Clones

**Author's Note:**

> For reference, [Bug cover art](http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51SE1YAR5PL.jpg).

Years had passed since the liberation of the galaxy and the restoration of all the servers of the Outernet to the Friends' control. Thanks to the noteworthy endeavors of humanoids and shapeshifters defending the Server that had come to planet Earth, the other servers had been synchronized to their full capacity, and their artificial intelligences were free to serve the inhabitants of the planets, rather than The Tyrant's whims. In that time, several of those programs had patched to better emulate the organic life-forms who accessed them. For instance, a new server had been restored in A'Void City, but this one specialized in simultaneous translation rather than their cryptic dialect. A simple server could be found in the Temple of the Five Winds, whose Help server gave answers in haiku (“ _the answers you seek/can't be found by such a search/look again elsewhere?_ ”). And a brave Friend had even dropped a computer down to the planet Aaaaaargh!, whose Help had been instructed to console its users that the pain of being impaled by one of the native species would be over very soon.

The server on the planet Nerdoofo was similarly adapted to respond to the sometimes-militaristic protocol of the Bugs that called the planet home. Survivors of the attack on the Dark Pyramid, they had taken different paths since that fateful day. Some had returned to the “beautification” attempts they'd made in Nerdoofo's narrow inhabitable zone. A few others took to the spaceships that had made it through the battle, seeking purpose among the stars. Tourists went to Menkar, hoping against hope that amid the dust of the solar system there would be any fragments of their ravaged homeworld.

The idea of choosing another Big Bug was tossed around from time to time, but how to compare the strengths of individuals from different barracks? Were they to have some kind of wimpy election? A proper clash between the different settlements would be much more Bug-like, but it felt like a waste. If they were going to the trouble of organizing militias, might as well see if there were any conflicts elsewhere in the galaxy that needed mercenaries.

Each barracks wound up more or less governing itself; some were larger than others, with their populations having lost more in the battle, and a few had been abandoned, with their inhabitants resettling elsewhere. The amateur astronomer who had challenged the Earthlings' description of Menkar had been acclaimed as the closest thing to a Big Bug in the central settlement where they'd made contact, in the absence of their original leader. It was this Bug who approached a companion one fateful day. “Do you think that you could ever see me as more than a friend?”

Silently, the Nerdoofo server snapped to attention.

“No,” the other Bug immediately answered. “Well, perhaps. Were you to betray the ideals of Bughood, I would take up arms against you. And legs. And whatever other appendages I found lying around. That would elevate you to the status of a worthy nemesis, which is much greater than some snivelling concept of friendship.”

“Aha. But you do not expect to ever desire to procreate with me?”

“No, as not only do we share identical DNA, but neither of us are capable of bearing offspring.”

“Yes. That part.” The Big Bug began to pace. “If we hope to sustain our species, we may need some help.”

 _Ping!_ The metallic face of the Help program projected over the barracks where the server had been installed. “Sirs! Local Outernet Server standing by.”

“Hmm,” the Big Bug mused. “Do you know how we might repopulate our species?”

“Can you talk to the Weaver in that thing?” asked his friend. “Maybe he can upload us into the Outernet somehow.”

“Is this your primary objective? Sublimation of the current population into a singular format?” asked the Server.

“I don't think so,” said the Big Bug. “Sure, it would beat dying, hands and many other body parts down. But I reckon all things being equal, I'd prefer knowing there was a future generation of children who could live on after me, ready to invade enemy planets if the need arose.”

“Not that galactic harmony isn't great,” the other Bug said. “They could look after Nerdoofo, too!”

“But...just in case.”

“Roger that,” said the server. “At ease, processing.”

“I'm at ease!” protested the second Bug. “I'm always at ease! What's there to do around here but take my ease! I've painted enough bedrooms to house an army!”

“Maybe you don't have to stick around here,” suggested the Big Bug. “I hear there are lots of diverting planets to visit.”

“Diverting, huh. More like diver _ted_ signals when they see us coming. Some of these cozy little worlds probably still have defenses to direct anyone with our DNA back to Kazamblam—I mean, it can't be that hard to encode.”

“That's not true at all. You need to put your paintbrush down and get out of these barracks before your paranoia does you in.”

“Sirs!” snapped the Nerdoofo server. “In your estimations, if a sexually dimorphic population could be born and then raised on this planet, would it be able to then sustain a population indefinitely?”

“I would hope so,” said the Big Bug. “Assuming they had your guidance to discourage...closely related pairs from procreating. It's that first step that seems out of reach.”

“Speak for yourself, I didn't volunteer to raise a bunch of cadets,” said the other.

“There are enough of us looking for _something_ to do.”

“Understood,” said the computer. “I recommend a briefing on Kippo VI.”

“Can you pull up the Friends Intelligence Bureau file?”

“Of course.” The server projected an image of the planet.

“Secret service...who could be anywhere,” marvelled the second Bug. “I remember them. Sounds like a species we don't want to be making enemies of.”

“I agree,” said the first, “but keep going. _Recent reports attributed to Agent Vega, the galactic liberator who was controversially laid off by her own force, suggest that the powers demonstrated by the Kippans may in fact be a byproduct of their_ _planet_ _, rather than an inherent result of their DNA. If this is true, the ramifications could be vast_.”

“Did The Tyrant know about this?” He'd used the Kippans, of course, but maybe not even _they_ had known the truth.

“You'd think he would have exploited it, if he did.” Expecting The Tyrant not to take advantage of planets with unusual features was like expecting a wormer to take the long way around the galactic center. “As it is, I think we should send an o-mail...”

From: [bigbug@barrack00.nerdoofo](mailto:bigbug@barrack00.nerdoofo)

To: [KSS@security.kippo](mailto:KSS@security.kippo)

Subject: Tourism

To whom it may concern,

Being a species of shape-shifters, it might not occur to you to think about the image you're displaying to the rest of the galaxy. We are here to inform you that it's about as resplendent as the glow of Planet Dark. Everyone knows you, not just as willing sympathizers with The Tyrant, but as the organization that dismissed your only agent who had the nerve to resist evil with the Friends and abandoned her on an alien world.

We can diagnose this problem with some precision, seeing as how we were a far more effective and competent security force for The Tyrant than you were ever entrusted to be. As a reward for turning against him and helping to fight him off, we are expecting to go extinct within one generation (more by the lifespan of a Munervian Mayfly, fewer by that of an Epsilonian Everemerald, but let's not quibble over details).

Perhaps our species can be of assistance to one another. If we can diversify our homeworld from a military barracks into a place where so many of the arts ~~thrive~~ subside, we urge you to consider declassifying the nature of the symbiotes that have co-evolved with you. Let some of us—or adventure-seeking travelers!—come to Kippo VI as we seek to restore our people.

Do not make us use force. You will find that although we may have been out of practice, some of us are still able to pack a punch. And also to carry it across interstellar space before unpacking it on the ever-shifting body parts of our adversaries.

Sincerely,

Big Bug

on behalf of

The Bugs of Comparable Size

Some time later, a crowd of aliens—many Bugs, and several other curious onlookers—gathered on the plains of Kippo VI. In many senses, they were a very diverse company. In addition to his fellow clones, the Big Bug noticed life-forms with ten arms and those with none, and visitors that had every imaginable combination of eyestalks and forked tongues, wings and scales. There were female Vrug-Haka and male Hunzahs, to say nothing of those aliens with more complicated gender systems, such as the Wellest-Endowed XXX-chromosomal Bazannoids, the Existentially-Tormented YOY Nihilitsits, and even the Perenially-Exhausted ZZZZZ Gingangoolies. Had he not recognized them, the Big Bug would have been surprised they could all breath the same air.

Because he knew almost all the non-Bugs had also been FOEs. Posted away from the Dark Pyramid, of course, but perhaps they were all seeking a sense of purpose after the war. Or perhaps it was just unrealistic to find anyone else willing to work with the Bugs. Wasn't the Weaver supposed to foster unity for this sort of thing? Even if it was mostly symbolic?

“Right,” said their Kippan liaison. She had taken on the form of a walking wanglefish, and it was difficult to tell whether she actually wanted to be there or had been forced into the role. “You're here to bond with the symbiotes?”

Heads nodded, bobbed, rolled around, or otherwise indicated their assent. One particularly slow clone blurted “So they _are_ real?” before being elbowed.

“Yes,” she said. “By this time, all of you should have spent long enough on-planet for the symbiotes to bond with you, assuming your physiologies aren't incompatible for some reason. To begin the shape-shifting process, we'll just need to direct them to assume the desired form. Hopefully, at least some of you will be suitable matches for these specimens, and the genetic engineers can harvest your temporary DNA and begin recombining. Now, when you t-mail _off_ -planet, we'll be sure and program the Kippo VI server so that only you leave here—not the symbiotes. Any questions?”

“You mean we can't teleport off-world with Kippan shapeshifting powers?” groaned a Hunzah. “What's even the point.”

“On reflection,” muttered the Big Bug, “entrusting this to a crowd of ex-FOEs may not have been your highest-intelligence move.”

“What if you shapeshifted into a natural shapeshifter?” asked a Gingangooly. “Does that make your powers even better?”

“When is the part where we get impregnated?” demanded a Bazannoid.

“...what?” said the Kippan.

“You know! When a life-form admixes the DNA of other life-forms—”

“I'm familiar with the concept, thanks,” she snapped. “There won't be any need for _that_ , I should hope. We'll just harvest your chromosomes and you can go on your merry way.”

“Do you have The Tyrant's engineers with you?” a Nihilitsit asked. “The ones who created the Bugs to begin with?”

“I thought they were long dead,” said the Big Bug. “Even before the attack.”

“Hey, this isn't fair,” said the Bazannoid. “I was looking forward to some maternity leave here! Or entiternity or whatever it is Bugs have. Taking some time for myself, enjoying all the amenities of Kippo VI! Whatever they are.”

“Do we know how long Bug gestation is?” asked another Bug. “You could be stuck here for a while.”

“You say that like it's a bad thing!”

“First things first,” said the Big Bug. “Can we see if the shapeshifting works?”

“Let's give it a try,” the Kippan said. “Right, then: Bug! Er—Nerdoofoer-Menkarian-Cetiite? What-have-you?”

Perhaps the abundance of names gave them more DNA to work with, perhaps it only confused matters, but one by one the aliens transformed, until an array of Bugs stood before them—not quite as imposing as a FOE battalion, but even more diverse than a lineup of hobbyists from Nerdoofo. Some were shorter than the Bugs who had traveled from the Wolf Sector; others had thinner legs, and still others crouched on stumpier ones. It seemed promising, although the Big Bug would hardly have called it love at first sight.

“It's a start,” said the Kippan. “C'mon, let's see whether that DNA took.”

“Look at that!” marvelled one of the Bugs. “Someday we'll tell our kids about this, their family among the stars.”

“Well,” said the Big Bug. “Friends, maybe.”

“What do you say?” pressed the entity who moments before had been a Bazannoid, and was then an enormous Bug, standing half a head taller than the Big Bug and enunciating with the finesse translated via the Kippan server. “It would really be a shame not to experience the full range of sensory capabilities available to this body. What do you say you show us what local foodstuffs your taste buds can devour, and we take it from there?”

“Testing first,” demanded the Big Bug. “But then, I think it's worth a shot.”

“You conniving force,” muttered the second Bug.

“A force of _something_ , all right.”

“Just doing my job,” said the onetime Bazannoid. “Your job. Our job.”

“Are you sure you want to raise this person's offspring?” another Bug asked.

The Big Bug hesitated, but only for a moment. “We defeated The Tyrant, didn't we? It's been long enough, I'm ready for a _real_ challenge.”

The cluster of Bugs marched off to the gleaming laboratories of Kippo VI, symbiotes and all.


End file.
